


wouldn’t know where to start

by dreamtiwasanarchitect



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Breathplay, Butt Plugs, Dating, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Fluff, Kink Negotiation, Light Angst, M/M, Making Love, Miscommunication, Rom-Com Vibes but Make It Kinky, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamtiwasanarchitect/pseuds/dreamtiwasanarchitect
Summary: The only thing that can compete with the experience of being fucked by Nicky is the experience of fucking Nicky. Nicky, who tells Joe he’s close just from being fingered open, and not to add a third because he wants tofeelit, who hooks his ankles around Joe’s hips and tangles his fingers in Joe’s hair, who makes little mewing noises in between gasping Joe’s name.Nicky, who curls up into Joe’s chest and kisses him breathless the minute Joe climbs back into bed after tossing the condom.Nicky, who wears reading glasses and sometimes bites his nails, who says about two words for every ten of Joe’s, who cooked Joe lablabi for dinner and watched with palpable nervousness when he took his first bite. Nicky, who has a nightstand full of sex toys.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 132
Kudos: 632





	1. call me foolish

**Author's Note:**

> I'm basically playing trope bingo with myself at this point ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It’s only their third time together—and their first time in Nicky’s bed—and Joe is fairly certain he’s caught a major case of feelings. Love is a strong word, sure, but it might be accurate, especially when Nicky lets his legs sprawl open and stares up at Joe like that.

“I want you,” Nicky says, his accent curling around the words. He rubs at his own hole, making it impossible for Joe to mistake his meaning. 

“Okay, yes,” Joe nods. 

This is new, too—two weeks ago, in the alley outside the bookshop where they met, they rutted together until they came on each other’s stomachs, and last week, having finally made it to Joe’s bed, Nicky gave him the railing of his life. 

Nicky nods toward his nightstand. “Lube, top drawer.”

Joe leans over and finds that, yes, there is lube, but there are a number of other objects, most of which he’s never seen outside of some of the edgier porn he’s watched.

“Ah,” he says. 

Nicky stops stroking himself and cranes his neck to see what Joe’s staring at. “Oh.”

Joe swallows. “Nicky, you’ve been holding out on me.”

Nicky shifts on the bed and smiles, that enigmatic little smirk that has haunted Joe’s dreams every day since they first met. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Joe feels his eyebrows creep up. He isn’t sure what to ask first. “Are these…for you, or your, ah, partners?” is what he settles on.

Nicky is still smirking a little, though there’s a tenseness in his jaw. “What do you think?”

“Well…honestly, I’m not sure,” Joe admits.

Nicky arches his back. “If you fuck me well enough, maybe I’ll tell you.” He flushes a little, and it’s enough to make Joe forget about Nicky’s kinky little treasure chest—for now. 

Naturally, the only thing that can compete with the experience of being fucked by Nicky is the experience of fucking Nicky. Nicky, who tells Joe he’s close just from being fingered open, and not to add a third because he wants to _feel_ it, who hooks his ankles around Joe’s hips and tangles his fingers in Joe’s hair, who makes little mewing noises in between gasping Joe’s name. 

Nicky, who curls up into Joe’s chest and kisses him breathless the minute Joe climbs back into bed after tossing the condom. 

Nicky, who wears reading glasses and sometimes bites his nails, who says about two words for every ten of Joe’s, who cooked Joe lablabi for dinner and watched with palpable nervousness when he took his first bite. Nicky, who has a nightstand full of sex toys.

“So,” Joe says into Nicky’s neck, because he can’t leave well enough alone, “will you tell me now?”

Nicky huffs a laugh, then he rolls to his side and leans up on a forearm. He looks at Joe, considering. “It’s a bit of both,” he says finally. 

Joe blinks.

“But more for me,” Nicky adds.

“Does that…does that mean that most but not all of the things are for you, or does that mean all the things are for you most of the time?”

Nicky’s lips twitch. “More of the second one.” 

Joe nods. “Okay.” He toys with the edge of the sheet. He’s having difficulty processing—his brain keeps short-circuiting with images of what Nicky would look like with—

“Joe.” Nicky sounds serious. He looks serious, too, when Joe glances back up at him. “It’s not—we don’t—” Nicky makes a frustrated sound and takes Joe’s hand.

“I like you,” Nicky says finally. 

“I like you, too,” Joe says immediately. “Like, a lot, Nicky.” 

Nicky’s face lights up with the wideness of his smile. Joe can’t help leaning forward to kiss him. As Nicky’s tongue runs over his teeth, something clicks.

“I’m not freaked out,” Joe says after he pulls away. “I am…the opposite, of that.” 

Nicky’s eyes flash. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean. I should have known. It’s always the quiet ones,” he teases and Nicky _tsk_ s.

Joe forges on. “I just don’t have any, ah, practical experience.” He bites his lip. “But maybe you could, ah, show me the ropes?” 

He wiggles his eyebrows and bursts out laughing. Nicky rolls on to his back with a groan and pushes at Joe’s thigh with a freezing-cold foot. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it.” 

“It seems you’re already proficient in the art of torturing someone in bed,” Nicky says, and Joe laughs harder.

Nicky waits for Joe’s fit to pass, his indulgent smile belying his mock-annoyance. 

“Bondage puns aside. I mean it, I’m game.”

“And what, exactly, are you game for?”

“Well.” Joe recalls the sight of the drawer and its contents. “I will definitely put any of those things in you, gladly. And, you know, the bondage, I’m happy to, ah, tie you up. Or down, or however. And if you wanted to have me like—that—I would be okay with that, too, I think.”

He’s having trouble interpreting Nicky’s expression. “‘Tied up’ can mean a lot of things,” Nicky says carefully. 

Joe has no idea what to make of that. “Well,” he says finally, with a weak smile, “you would know?”

Nicky sighs. “I would. But—you might not. I—informed consent is important, no matter who is being tied up. Or what have you.”

“Then inform me?”

Nicky looks thoughtful. “I do have some books you could take home.”

“Or you could just tell me everything you’re into and I could Google it,” Joe suggests. 

Nicky frowns. 

“I know, I know, you hate the internet! But—I take the train to work. To my job at a _school_ , teaching _children_. Walking around with books on how to practice kink is a recipe for an awkward conversation with my principal—at best.”

“I don’t _hate_ the internet,” Nicky says sulkily. “But fine—I will send you a list, tomorrow, of things to look up, yes?”

“Yes. Okay.” Joe smiles and kisses Nicky for a moment, then catches sight of the time as Nicky’s phone lights up with an email. 

“Shit. It’s almost eleven.”

Nicky looks confused for a moment before he puts it together. “And you have to work tomorrow.”

Joe nods. “I better go. But we’ll talk, tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Nicky pulls him down into another kiss. 

By the time Joe makes it home, it’s after midnight. 

———

The next day, Nicky rolls out of bed, types out his list, and then waits until four-thirty p.m. in an attempt to respect the sanctity of Joe’s profession.

_Bondage (including sensory deprivation and Shibari), breath play, discipline, fisting, impact play (hitting, spanking, flogging, caning), knife play, orgasm control. All “for me.”_

When his alarm goes off, he sends the text and, staring at the blue bubble, immediately wishes he could take it back. Seeing it written out like that—well, he couldn’t blame Joe for being intimidated.

 _Dinner here tomorrow?_ he adds before he can help himself. Nicky throws his phone on the couch, disgusted with himself. 

Two minutes later, his screen lights up. _Yes what time?_

He lets out a relieved breath. _6:30?_

_Perfect :) I’ll do my homework tonight :))_

Nicky is still not sure what he’s done to deserve a person like Joe, who he likes more and more each day.

He’s never properly dated someone who was interested in indulging his kinky side. Nicky’s roster of past lovers is comprised entirely of, one, people he only ever played with in the scene, two, assholes with no proper kink education who didn’t hesitate to jump in (to terrible results), and, three, men he met through school who were always shocked when their mousy boyfriend wanted more than laid back blow jobs and missionary-style fucking. 

Nicky knows it’s not all up to him, but he’s going to do everything in his power not to fuck this up.

Because he’s so on edge, he decides to cook something he could make in his sleep—pesto gnocchi, with oyster mushrooms. It all goes off well, until it’s six-twenty and he’s about to open the wine, and he realizes he doesn’t actually know if Joe drinks.

They covered religion briefly on their first real date. Over dinner, Joe had told Nicky he was a Muslim, albeit not a particularly observant one (and Nicky admitted to being formerly Catholic, currently not much of anything), but that doesn’t leave him with a very clear picture of where Joe stands on alcohol.

Nicky’s dithering is cut short when the bell dings. He opens the door and finds Joe, smiling and looking perfect as always.

“Hi,” he says, and he knows he’s smiling too.

Joe steps in and brushes a kiss over Nicky’s lips. “Hey. How was your day?”

He steps aside to let Joe in. “Uneventful. And yours?”

“Come on, aren’t you curing cancer or something like that?”

Nicky scoffs. His work as a research assistant is mind-numbingly dull to most people—out of context, it even bores him, when he’s not completely engrossed in it. “Hardly. But. Maybe someday. How was school?” 

“Kids were nuts,” Joe admits a little tiredly, trailing after Nicky into the kitchen. “I think it’s the full moon. Or just the impending break—who knows.” 

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. I have wine, if you drink it?” he offers, feeling out of sorts.

Joe peers at the bottle. “Well, since it’s a Malbec…”

“You do drink, then? I wasn’t sure. It’s okay if you don’t,” Nicky adds hastily. “I just didn’t know, is all.” 

“I do.” Joe uncorks the bottle and pours them each a glass.

Over dinner they make easy conversation. Joe compliments the meal and asks more questions about where Nicky learned to cook. Nicky listens as Joe re-tells an anecdote his coworker-turned-friend Nile shared with him that day. They clean their plates and finish their wine, and if this was it, if this was their entire relationship for the rest of their lives, Nicky thinks that would be enough—more than, even.

But then Joe leans back in his chair and clears his throat. “So, uh. About that homework.”

“Ah. Yes.” Nicky fingers the stem of his glass. 

“I did have some questions,” Joe says tentatively.

Nicky nods and tries to keep his face neutral. “Of course.”

Then Joe’s looking sheepish as he tugs a piece of ruled notebook paper out his pocket. “I wrote them down.” 

Nicky no longer knows where to put all the fondness that’s threatening to spill out of his chest. He fights to contain his smile. “Go on, then.”

“Can you, just, maybe clarify the discipline?”

Nicky feels his face heating. Talking about this type of thing never gets easy, or not-arousing. 

“We could agree on some, ah, rules that I would have to follow,” he tells Joe. “And some acceptable punishments for not following them.”

“And an example of that might be…”

Nicky bites the inside of his cheek. “That I couldn’t speak out of turn. Or…or that I couldn’t touch myself without your permission. And as punishment, you could tell me not to come.”

Joe nods, thinking. “If I told you…not to speak, would I, what, gag you as a punishment?”

At this point, Nicky is hard enough to pound nails. He shifts in his seat, trying to do so subtly. “You could. Or you could do that to help me.”

“Help you?”

“Help me be good.” Nicky swallows. “For example.”

Joe’s eyes are very wide, and Nicky doesn’t know how to interpret it. “And since you like…pain,” Joe says slowly. “That wouldn’t be a punishment?”

“It could be if you didn’t let me get off after. Or if you withheld it.”

Joe’s face crumples then. “Ah, Nicky…”

The molten feeling in his chest turns icy. “It’s okay,” he says automatically. “Just, tell me?”

Joe hunches forward, and he looks contrite. “I don’t think I can hurt you, not…not really. Not with… _implements_. I just—”

“That’s all right. I don’t want you to do something you aren’t comfortable with.” Nicky reaches across the table to grab Joe’s hand. Joe squeezes back and shoots him a relieved smile.

“Spanking I can do,” and his tone is so conciliatory and earnest that Nicky laughs so hard he snorts. 

“I’ll take it,” he tells him. 

Joe smirks then. “Yeah, you will.” 

And Nicky knows that Joe’s being more playful than anything, but suddenly all he can think about is Joe holding him down, or, even better, tying him down, and telling him that he’s going to take it, and suddenly he’s warm all over again. 

“Fuck, Joe,” his murmurs. 

Joe blinks at him and looks a little amazed. “This conversation is doing it for you, isn’t it?”

Nicky just nods.

“Shit. I mean, me too.” 

At this point, Nicky determines there are three options:

One, he can take Joe to bed and see if Joe will tie him down and tell him to take it.

Two, they can finish discussing their desires and limits.

Or, three—

“Can I suck you, Joe? Please?”

Joe’s eyes are like saucers. “Uh, yes, yeah, okay—” and he scrapes his chair back from the table while Nicky scrambles to his knees.

Together they push down Joe’s pants, and Nicky wraps his lips around that perfect cock.

Joe groans. Nicky shoves a hand into his own jeans. It’s not going to take much. He pulls off and stares up into Joe’s eyes. “Fuck my face?”

“ _Shit_ , Nicky, yeah—” Joe requires no convincing. He buries a hand in Nicky’s hair and thrusts in and out. 

Nicky gags and comes in his underwear. 

“Fuck, did you—oh, shit, Nicky, fuck, fuck—”

The thrusts are rougher, shorter, and soon Joe’s coming in his throat. Nicky swallows it all down, greedy for it.

He doesn’t want to stop having Joe’s cock in his mouth, but eventually Joe guides him off. Nicky pushes his head against Joe’s thigh and lets his eyes close.

“So,” Joe asks as he scratches Nicky’s scalp, “what now?” 


	2. anytime you want it

Just like every day after school, Joe and Nile leave the building together. It feels especially good today, though, as it’s the first day of Thanksgiving break.

“Celebrating at your mom’s?” Joe asks.

“Yep, same old same. You know you’re invited, right? Once you come to Freeman turkey day, you’re always welcome, even if you don’t actually eat the turkey.” 

“Ah. I did not realize it was a standing invitation. I don’t think I’ll make it this time, but I’ll add it to the calendar for next year.” 

He grins and Nile smiles back. “Right on.”

They make it to the station minutes before their normal train is scheduled to pull up. Nile frowns when Joe hangs back.

“I’m taking another train today,” he explains.

Nile’s eyes light up. “Is this about the guy you’re seeing?”

“Maybe.”

Then her eyes narrow. “You’ve been pretty thin on the details. Joe, don’t tell me this is another sad white boy!”

“Nile, I’ve told you, Booker and I are friends.”

“Yeah, but all the guys you’ve ever dated were also sad white boys. 

“You’ve known me for three years! You don’t know all the guys I’ve dated.”

“Okay, fine—all the guys you’ve dated in the past three years were sad white boys.” 

If Joe has anything to say about it, Nicky’s going to be a very happy and well-fucked white boy, but he decides to keep that to himself. “There were only two, I don’t think that’s statistically significant,” he argues. 

“Joe, you’re an art teacher, you don’t know shit about math,” Nile says with a laugh. Her train arrives and she waves. “Have fun. Be safe. Text me if you change your mind about T-giving.”

“I will. See you next week!” 

It’s only been two days, but Joe is already desperate to see Nicky again. They’ve continued the conversation they started in Nicky’s kitchen over text, since having it in person had proved to be too much for either of them to handle.

 _We’re gonna get sent to horny jail_ , Joe joked. 

_Sounds kinky_ , Nicky fired back, and Joe really did laugh out loud.

Conveniently, Nicky lives even closer to his school than Joe does, so in less than fifteen minutes Joe’s letting himself in to Nicky’s apartment. 

It smell like fresh-baked pastries, and Nicky’s at the sink, washing dishes. Joe drops his bag, toes off his shoes, and sidles up behind him. 

“Joe! You’re early,” Nicky says, frowning even as he accepts a kiss to his temple. “I haven’t even started dinner.”

“Nicky, it’s five o’clock.” 

“Still. It’s rude to keep a guest waiting.” 

“I just let myself in, I think I qualify as not-a-guest, yeah?”

“Mm. I suppose.” Nicky dries his hands and turns in Joe’s arms. Their noses nudge, and this—this is what Joe wants when he gets home every day, and he’s a little scared of what he might be willing to do to have it. 

He kisses Nicky before he says anything stupid.

“Let’s go do the inventory,” he says.

Nicky grins and leads him into his bedroom, where all of Nicky’s various toys and gear are laid out on the bed—and it’s certainly more than a drawer’s worth.

“Holy shit.” Joe blinks. “You weren’t kidding. Does your nightstand have a secret compartment?”

Nicky smiles again, but this time it’s a little self-conscious. “I keep a lot of it under the bed,” he tells Joe.

Joe perches on the edge of the bed. “Okay. So. I’ll start with what I know.”

Nicky sits down across from him and nods.

“Butt plugs,” Joe says, casting his gaze over the collection. “And…this one vibrates?”

“Yes, and this one.” Nicky points. “But this one has a remote control.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Joe swallows and tries to sound casual or at least natural. “And then a couple dildos, I see. Any of these do tricks?”

“Other than going in my ass?” Nicky says dryly. “No.”

Joe narrows his eyes. “Okay, rule number one is no backtalk.”

Nicky snickers and reclines on his side, head head resting on his arm.

Joe plucks at a piece of silky black fabric. “Blindfold?”

Nicky nods. 

He correctly identifies the wrist and ankle cuffs, but is stumped by two different sets of straps.

Nicky holds up one set. “This is a collar that connects to wrist cuffs—” he raises the other “—and this binds wrists to thighs.” 

“Got it.” Joe picks up a collapsable black rod. “Spreader bar?”

“Yes.” 

“And this…” Joe’s fingers trace a metal ring with straps at either end. “This goes in your mouth?”

“Yes.”

Joe desperately tries not to image fucking Nicky’s face with his mouth held open around that gag and moves on.“What about this?” He picks up something else with straps and four-inch long piece of padded leather. 

“Also goes in my mouth.” 

“Right.” They’ve gone through most of it now, so Joe stares at the flogger, which he’d been rather trying to ignore. 

“So, can I ask—is this a Catholic thing?”

“No,” Nicky scowls. 

Joe just raises an eyebrow as he fingers the paddle laid out next to it. 

“Maybe,” Nicky relents. 

Joe cracks up, and Nicky puts his face in his hands but he’s laughing, too.

“These two might have to stay under the bed,” he tells Nicky regretfully. Then it occurs to him that he may not be the only one Nicky’s showing this stuff to. “Um. At least, you know, when I’m…around.”

Nicky frowns at him. “I told you I’m a lapsed Catholic. I don’t flog myself.” 

This was probably the conversation to have before the kink talk, but it’s too late now. “No, I know, I just meant—I didn’t know if, um, anyone else is currently flogging you.” 

Nicky stares up at him, face unreadable. “I’m not sleeping with anybody else,” he says slowly.

“Good,” Joe says before he can filter himself, and he hastily backtracks. “I mean. It’s—if you are—”

“Are you sleeping with anybody else?”

“No!” 

“Do you want to sleep with anybody else?”

“No, Nicky, I—”

“Neither do I,” he says firmly. 

They stare at each other for a minute, then they’re smiling, both a little shy.

“If I talked about you, to a friend, or anyone,” Nicky says slowly, “would…‘boyfriend’ be an appropriate term?”

No, Joe thinks, boyfriend is not a term that appropriately expresses what he feels for Nicky, but such a word may not exist in any language, so he nods. “Yes. And…I would like that.”

Nicky rolls forward and kisses him. Joe ends up underneath him, and one of the butt plugs is poking uncomfortably into his back, but he decides it doesn’t matter. 

———

At their favorite spot, a Mexican vegetarian joint where the owner knows them by name, Nicky scrolls his phone while he waits for Andy. She’s five minutes late, which for her is right on time.

He feels ridiculous, but he taps back into his conversation with Joe. This morning, Joe had texted him at nine-forty five, which Nicky knew was his break between first and second periods.

 _Spilled my water on my crotch 10 min before 7th grade_ , he wrote, and there was a picture of his wet khakis included. 

_Oh no. Did you get bullied?_

_They were absolutely savage_

Nicky grins just from re-reading it. 

There’s a rush of cool air as the door opens—the place is tiny—and Andy sweeps in, shrugging off her coat. 

Nicky stands to wrap her in a hug. Their cheeks press, Andy’s chilled against his. 

“I missed you,” he tells her as they sit.

“I missed my own bed. And also you,” she adds with a grin. “The good news is I don’t have any more travel planned until March.”

“A miracle.” As part of her consulting job, Andy frequently gets sent off to set up temporary shop in a new place. “How was, ah—where was it?”

“Sioux Falls, South Dakota. And it was, as predicted, boring as fuck. Absolutely nothing to report. What about you?”

Nicky twists his hands in his lap. “Actually. I’ve met someone.”

Andy’s eyes narrow. She’s familiar with all the varieties of men Nicky normally dates. 

“He—his name is Joe,” he says. “We met at that used bookstore on Broadway. He’s a middle-school teacher. Art. His family’s from Tunisia, they immigrated when he was eight. He—” Nicky’s aware that he’s rambling and that these basic biographical facts are not going to actually influence Andy’s outlook on his relationship. “—he makes stupid jokes, and he cleans up after me while I cook,” he finishes, somewhat lamely.

Andy’s face is impassive. “Does he know about your family?”

“No.” Nicky doesn’t like where this is headed, but Andy lets it drop when their server stops by.

“I can tell you really like him,” she says when they’re alone again.

“Yes.” Nicky feels his face heat and he glances away. 

He can hear Andy’s grin, though, when she asks, “Is he good in bed?”

“Yes.” 

Andy raises an eyebrow. “But is he good in bed?”

They’ve gone out to clubs together, so she has a rough idea of what Nicky likes. Because oversharing with friends is a two-way street, Nicky knows that most of Andy’s interests entail pegging and occasionally stepping on sad straight men. 

“Yes, though you know, you’re not entitled to these details.”

“I never said I was,” she says smugly. She leans back in her seat. “I want to meet him. Ideally before I leave town again.”

Nicky rolls is his. “Joe is a busy man, but I’m sure we can some availability in the next four months.” 

“You joke, but I don’t see you getting out your calendar.”

“I don’t have his schedule memorized, Andy.”

Unimpressed, she folds her arms. “Text him then.” 

“Fine,” he grumbles, pulling out his phone.

 _Andy wants to meet you_ , he texts Joe. 

_Cool_ , Joe texts back less than a minute later, then, _When?_

_When is good for you?_

_Next Sat? Might invite Book + Nile if thats okay_

_Sounds good. I will tell Andy._

“Next Saturday,” he says, looking up.

Andy is staring at him, bemused. 

“What?”

“You…really like him. You’ve gone all smiley and stupid,” she says, gesturing. 

“I have not,” Nicky protests weakly.

“Sure.” Andy’s smirking, but to his relief, she drops it when their food comes.

———

“Booker and Nile are in for next Saturday,” is the first thing Joe says after he’s given Nicky a five-minute hello kiss.

“Mm, good,” Nicky murmurs against his lips before he pulls him into another.

“Should be fun,” Joe manages when they break apart.

“Yes, very,” Nicky says absently and leans in again. 

Joe stops him with a hand on his cheek. “Nicky,” he says softly, and they’re close enough that Joe’s lips brush over Nicky’s when he speaks. “You’re needy, tonight.” 

Nicky drops his head to Joe’s shoulder and grinds against him with a frustrated noise. 

For all of their very thorough conversations concerning the contents of Nicky’s nightstand drawer, they have yet to actually make use of anything in it. Not for lack of interest on Joe’s part (and certainly not on Nicky’s)—rather the opposite. They only see each other every two or three days, if that, and usually one of them gets so impatient that they’re lucky if they make it to the bed at all.

“Nicky, I’m gonna give you what you need, baby,” Joe tells him. 

Nicky jerks to look at him, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Go get undressed. I want you on the bed, facedown.” Nicky’s breath hitches a little and he nods. 

Joe means to smack his ass but it ends up being more of a pat than anything. Nicky still moans. 

“Go,” Joe says, and Nicky turns on his heel and hurries to his bedroom. 

Joe leans heavily on the couch and tries to get a handle on himself. Nicky has been waiting for this for weeks. He needs to make it good for him. He takes several deep breaths, then retraces Nicky’s steps into the bedroom.

As instructed, Nicky’s face is pressed into the pillows, arms haloing his head, and he doesn’t look up when Joe crawls between his legs, which are spread almost obscenely wide. 

He runs his middle finger down Nicky’s spine and thrills at the shiver it gets him, then he leans over to the open the nightstand drawer.

Joe pulls out the cuffs and brings Nicky’s arms behind his back. He wraps each wrist in a cuff before linking the restraints together.

He leans in to whisper in Nicky’s ear. “Okay?”

Nicky nods. “Yes, Joe.” 

Joe seizes one of the pillows. “Lift your hips,” he says, and he pushes the pillow beneath Nicky when he obeys.

Joe lets himself enjoy the view for a few moments. When he strokes Nicky’s ass, Nicky pushes back against his hand. 

“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Joe.” He’s shaking, just a little.

“Shh,” Joe coos, then brings his hand down.

Nicky makes a loud, throaty moan and Joe spares a thought for the thickness of the walls before slapping the other cheek.

Several smacks in, Nicky is humping desperately against the pillow. Joe considers, briefly, telling him that’s not allowed, but the sight is too hot to put a stop to.

And the noises Nicky is making—now Joe understands why he owns multiple gags. He certainly wouldn’t have classified Nicky as quiet in bed before this, but the sounds escaping from him now are almost inhuman.

Nicky’s ass is pink all over, and Joe’s hand is starting to smart a little, too. He grabs the lube and begins pressing a finger into Nicky. 

The minute Joe’s knuckle brushes Nicky’s rim, he’s begging for more. 

“Please, Joe, can I have another, please—”

Joe gives his ass a slap with his free hand. “Shh. I told you, I’m gonna give you what you need, didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes—”

“Then be patient, baby.” 

And as much as it pains Joe to do it, he drags out the task of opening Nicky for as long as he can, alternating between spanking him and fucking him on his fingers.

When he’s got three worked in, he presses mercilessly against Nicky’s prostate and smacks his ass at the same time. 

Nicky comes all over the pillow with a scream.

“Fuck,” Joe hisses. He pulls out his fingers, trying his best to avoid overstimulating Nicky, but he still twitches when Joe’s fingers brush past his rim.

“Nicky, baby, look at me?”

Nicky turns his head, revealing his flushed face and glassy eyes. 

“You feeling good?”

He nods, mouth hanging open.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Joe tells him, trying to not to let it sound like a question. He’s a little worried that it’ll be too much, but he’s got to trust Nicky to tell him if that’s the case.

Nicky just moans and spreads his legs.

Everything about Nicky is loose—not just his hole, but all the normally tense lines of his body. The last time he bottomed for Joe, Nicky fucked like an animal, wild-eyed and kicking at Joe’s back, begging for _more yes harder_. 

Now he’s pliant, almost unmoving but for the occasional press back against Joe, quiet except for little noises of encouragement. 

“Nicky, shit, you’re so hot like this,” Joe says through his gritted teeth.

“Joe,” Nicky moans, and arches his back.

It’s not the best showing of Joe’s stamina, but he can’t help it—having Nicky like this, knowing he made him this mindless mess of want and need, well, it drives Joe a little of his mind, too.

He comes with a wordless shout, feeling like the air has been punched out of his lungs. 

He allows himself to collapse on Nicky, sweaty front to sweaty back, for just a few breaths before he pushes himself up. He pulls out and drops the condom on top of its wrapper, then sets about unbuckling Nicky’s cuffs.

Once they’re free, Nicky’s arms lift back into their starting position, flung around his head. 

Joe smooths a hand down his back and coaxes him into rolling over.

“Hi,” he says, searching Nicky’s face for any indication that he’s accidentally fucked this up. 

Nicky smiles, still loose and easy. “Hi.”

“Was all of that okay?”

Nicky shakes his head. “No. It was amazing.” He grins and reaches out for Joe, who needs no further persuading. 

“It was good for you?” Nicky asks as he settles underneath Joe’s arm.

“Amazing,” Joe says. 

“Will you stay over?”

“Ah.” Joe scrubs a hand over his face and curses his poor planning. “I want to. But it’s a school night, and I didn’t pack anything—”

“You can borrow something of mine? Anything you like.” 

“Even your hideous cargo pants?” 

Nicky turns his head to nip at Joe’s chest. “Anything _but_ those.” 

Joe laughs and burrows deeper into the covers. “Deal.” 


	3. they’re gonna think it anyway

On the first Saturday in December, Nicky and Joe arrive at the bar early to grab a roomy booth and hopefully nip any awkwardness between their friends in the bud.

Nicky shifts nervously against the torn, padded seating and inhales sharply when the plug he’s wearing shifts.

Joe fixes him with a long look over the rim of his drink. 

Nicky had spent the better part of the morning convincing Joe that the only way to allay his anxiety about attempting to merge their friend groups was to give him a pleasant distraction. After some pleading, Joe had laid Nicky out on the bed and opened him with his tongue before plugging him with one of the larger toys. 

(Nicky had fought hard for the vibrating one with the remote control, but Joe had just laughed. 

“Haven’t you ever heard about Icarus?” he teased. 

“I’m not sure that it’s flattering of you to compare our sex games to a failed attempt at flight,” Nicky shot back, but he did see Joe’s point.)

Now, he’s afraid that instead of giving himself a welcome diversion, he’s just created another reason to feel on edge. 

“Was this a bad idea?” Joe asks. “Do you need to take it out?”

“No,” Nicky says stubbornly. He moves again and the plug nudges his prostate. “Fuck,” he hisses.

Joe just raises his eyebrows.

“It’ll be fine,” Nicky insists. “I’ll tell you if I need it out.”

“Do we need a signal? Or a codeword or something?”

Nicky considers it, but before he lands on any decisions, there’s a woman approaching their booth.

“Hey, guys!” she calls. She slides into the booth next to Joe and they share a brief hug.

“Nicky, this is my friend and coworker Nile. Nile, my boyfriend Nicky.”

Nicky feels a little thrill at being introduced as Joe’s boyfriend. 

Nile’s smile is dazzling white and her braids fall over her shoulder as she leans across Joe to take Nicky’s hand.

“I’m really excited to meet you. I was sort of convinced Joe just made you up,” she tells him.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, the whole ‘he goes to a different school thing,’ you know?”

Nicky does not know, but he nods and smiles anyway. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Nile says to Joe, faux innocent. “I just didn’t think he was really gonna be as cute as you made it sound.”

Joe grins and Nicky feels his face flush. He takes a drink in lieu of responding to that. 

“Well, that’ll teach you to question your elders,” Joe says smugly. 

She shakes her head but doesn’t argue. “I should go grab a drink. Is Booker still coming?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“I’ll get him one too. Joe said one of your friends is coming, too, Nicky?” 

“Yes,” he says. “Andy. She is perpetually five minutes late, at her most on-time.” 

“If you know what she likes I can get something for her too. Unless you don’t wanna reward bad behavior.”

“It won’t make a difference. She likes anything with vodka.” 

“My kinda gal,” Nile says, and pushes out of the booth with a smile. 

Nicky turns to more fully face Joe. “She’s lovely,” he says, and means it.

Joe looks pleased and relieved. “Yeah, Nile’s good people. Sorry, if, ah, we embarrassed you a little…”

“No, not at all,” Nicky says. They had, actually, but Nicky would let Joe embarrass him any way he wanted to. “I just hope the rumors about my appearance have not been greatly exaggerated.” 

“Hey, you heard the woman. They _haven’t_ been.” 

“Hmm,” he says, but leans forward, about to go in for a kiss when he realizes someone else is now standing in front of the booth.

“Uh, hey,” says the man. 

“Book!” Joe says happily. “You showed.”

“I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” Booker says with a frown.

“Yeah, but bailing is kinda your move, man.”

Booker scowls and pushes his dirty-blond hair out of his face. “Just introduce me to your boyfriend.”

“Booker, Nicky. Nicky, Booker, sometimes known as Sebastien.” 

Booker and Nicky shake hands. “It’s nice to meet you,” Nicky says.

“Yeah, same. I’m gonna go get a drink, either of you need anything?”

“No, and Nile has you covered,” Joe tells him.

For the first time since he arrived, Booker actually looks somewhat happy to be here, something Nicky is chalking up to what Joe has described as his “mild alcoholism and general misanthropy.” 

Booker sits next to Joe. “So I haven’t heard the full story of you how met, and I think I’d rather hear it from you than Joe, Nicky.”

Nicky frowns. “And why is that?”

“I’d rather hear the three-minute version than the full, twenty-minute saga,” he says drily. 

Joe scoffs. “No appreciation for the art of storytelling.”

Booker shrugs and Nile returns with the drinks. A little to Nicky’s surprise, she plops down next to him. 

“Hey Booker,” she says, passing down a tumbler of whiskey. 

“Cheers,” Booker says. “Nicky was just going to tell us how and Joe met.”

“Ooh,” Nile says, and she turns to fix her attention on Nicky.

“Well,” he says, not entirely sure how to begin. He’s certain Joe would tell this better. “It was at the used bookshop on Broadway. In the poetry section. We were looking for the same book.”

“Saeed Jones,” Joe says, beaming. 

“Shh, Joe, Nicky is telling the story,” Nile says.

“Yeah, come on, Joe,” Booker chimes in, though he’s grinning a little now.

Nicky plunges on. “Yes, well, Joe asked me if I’d read his work before, and I said I hadn’t, but that I was trying to read more contemporary queer poetry and fiction, and—” if his face wasn’t completely red before, it will be now “—Joe, ah, said he could make some recommendations.” 

Booker snorts into his drink.

“Oh my _God_ , Joe,” Nile says laughing. “You would. What happened then?”

Then they rubbed up on each other in the alley, but Nicky’s not sure he should tell Joe’s friends that. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and feels the plug again. Fuck.

He shoots Joe a look, and Joe quickly says, “Then we started seeing each other, that’s pretty much it.”

Whether or not Nile and Booker find that a satisfactory ending, they’ll never know, because Andy finally shows up. For once, Nicky is grateful for her chronic lateness.

“Ah, Andy, this is Joe—” he reaches out blindly next to him and ends up gripping Joe’s pectoral— “and these are his friends, Nile and Booker.”

Andy surveys them, face unreadable. “Hey.”

“It’s great to meet you, Andy,” Joe says, smiling widely.

Nile taps the table next to her. “This is for you—vodka soda.”

“All right,” Andy says, and her lips twitch up into something close to a smile. “Next round’s on me.”

She slides to sit beside Nile and takes a drink. “What’d I miss?”

“Nicky was telling us how he and Joe met.”

Andy nods. “How do you two know Joe?”

“College roomies,” Booker says. “Randomly paired.”

Joe nudges Booker with his elbow. “The stars were smiling upon him that day.”

Booker rolls his eyes.

“Joe and I teach together,” Nile says. “Three years now. How’d _you_ two meet?” She gestures at Nicky and Andy with her drink. 

“School,” Andy says.

“College?”

“No, high school. I was an army brat. My father was stationed in Naples for almost four years.” 

“Get out,” Nile says. “My dad was military too. A Marine.” 

“Oh yeah?”

Nile nods and hesitates, then smiles and clinks glasses with Andy. 

Nicky looks at Joe and grins nervously. 

As promised, Andy buys the next round. Booker gets the one after. The conversation flows easily for the most part, and Nicky lets himself lean more heavily into Joe, who’s worked an arm around his waist.

“I don’t know how you and Joe do it all day, every day,” Booker, now seated on Andy’s other side, is saying to Nile. “I mean, I love my kids, but that’s ‘cause they’re _my_ kids.”

“It’s really rewarding, but we’re at the point in the semester where I am gonna jump out of a fifteen-story window if I have to smell anymore Axe body spray, swear to God,” Nile says. “But the good news is break is just a couple weeks away. Y’all have any cool holiday plans?”

Nicky catches Andy glancing at him. “I need to go to the restroom,” he mutters to Joe, and Joe moves to let him out.

It’s not entirely a lie—he has had several drinks, after all—but it’s mostly a convenient escape. He shakes himself off and washes his hands, then leans up against the sink, trying to determine how long it’ll take the group to exhaust the current topic of conversation.

There’s a knock at the door. “Nicky?”

He unlocks the door lets Joe in to the single stall bathroom. 

“Hey,” Joe says, peering at his face. “Um. I…wasn’t sure if that was the signal.”

Nicky hadn’t forgotten about the plug—that would have been impossible—but with the stress of meeting Joe’s friends and introducing Andy and the reminder of the state of his relationship with his family, he’s had more pressing things on his mind.

Now, the plug is all he can think about.

“I did just need to piss,” Nicky admits, then wraps his hands around Joe’s wrists and tugs him closer. “But now that we’re here…”

Joe’s eyebrows raise and a smile spreads across his face. “Oh? What exactly are you suggesting?” 

“I’m _suggesting_ that you fuck me in this bathroom, Joe, and then plug me back up when I’m full of your come.” They both received their test results—all negative—two days ago, and Nicky’s been absolutely desperate for Joe to come in him ever since. 

“Fuck,” Joe says. For a second Nicky’s afraid he’s broken him, but then Joe spins him around and bends him over the sink. 

“Like this, baby?” he purrs in Nicky’s ear.

“Yes, fuck—”

Joe pushes down Nicky’s jeans and underwear. He taps at the plug and Nicky bites down on his own hand.

“We gotta be fast,” Joe says “Our friends are waiting.”

No matter how fast they do this, they’re still going to get shit from the others—Andy, Nicky is sure of, and he’s willing to bet Nile and Booker will have no problem joining in—but he supposes the faster they are, the less rude it is.

“I’m ready, Joe, please.”

Joe works the plug out carefully, but he doesn’t tease Nicky with it, which would be ideal if they weren’t very literally having a quickie.

Joe rubs his fingers over Nicky’s hole. “I don’t have any lube, baby.” His breaths in Nicky’s ear are quick and heavy. “But you still feel slick. Think you can take me like this?”

He grinds back against Joe’s fingers. “Yes, please, Joe.” 

“It’ll hurt, a little. Is that what you want?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Nicky groans. 

Joe bites at his neck and covers Nicky’s mouth with one hand while he unzips himself with the other. “I know how loud you get, baby.”

He moans into Joe’s palm. 

It does hurt—more than just a little, in fact—when Joe presses into him. It’s glorious. Nicky lets himself cry out, trusting Joe to keep him quiet with his hand or with other measures if needed.

“Touch yourself,” Joe gasps, and Nicky obeys. They both move quickly, each chasing their own pleasure. 

“You better come before I finish, Nicky—as soon as I’m done, so are we.” And just the thought of Joe sending him back out to their friends, plugged with Joe’s come and still hard—that’s all it takes for Nicky to spill into his own hand.

Joe bites Nicky again as he comes, this time on the back of his neck, right on his spine, and moans into Nicky’s skin. 

Nicky glances up into the mirror over the sink, which is cracked and dirty. They will definitely be hearing about this from their friends, but as Joe works the plug back into him, he decides it’s worth it. 

———

After being thoroughly roasted by their friends (it absolutely did not help that Nicky was limping ever-so-slightly), they say their goodbyes. Joe’s place is a walkable distance from the bar, so they bundle up in their coats and step out into the cold. Joe wants to wrap Nicky in his arms, but that’s not an efficient way to walk, and he’d like to get out of the cold as quickly as possible.

“I think that went well,” he says.

Nicky gives him a sly look. “Which part?”

“Well, I was specifically talking about the friend setup. But all of it, obviously.” He takes Nicky’s hand and holds it in his own pocket. 

“Obviously.” Nicky grins. His nose is already pink from the cold. It’s adorable. “I think it all went well, too. I just hope Nile protects Booker.”

Joe blinks. “From what? Don’t worry, he doesn’t own a car and he’s very good at navigating the train while nearly blackout.”

Nicky looks over at him, face serious. “I meant, from Andy. You did not see her face when she heard he was divorced?”

“No. Seemed to me like she was paying more attention to Nile.” 

“Hm. Perhaps they both should tread carefully.”

The thoughtful look on his face has Joe wondering. “Are you, uh, speaking from experience?”

Nicky lets out a surprised laugh. “No! Of course not—at least, not personal experience. But Andy has always been happy to recount her experiences.” 

Joe smirks. “Sounds like we’ll have to fish for details tomorrow.”

Once they’re out of the cold, Joe puts on the kettle and they both slink down into Joe’s worn couch, cocooned in blankets, hands wrapped around their mugs.

Joe is loathe to ruin the moment, but he can’t put off talking to Nicky about his plans for the upcoming break much longer. He clears his throat.

“Hey, so, I was thinking about break, since Nile brought it up. Obviously my family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but my parents and my sisters all live in Columbus, so I was planning on going to visit for a day or two while I’m off school.” 

Nicky’s face is passive, though Joe spots the telltale tenseness in his jaw. 

He hesitates. “I would ask you to come with me but—well, for one thing I didn’t know if you had any plans with your family, and I really want you to meet them, my parents and my sisters, but I thought they could use a little warming up, first, if that’s okay—”

Nicky quiets him with a soft kiss. “It’s all right, Joe. I want to meet them, too, but it doesn’t have to be now. They should be ready.” His expression is tender, but there’s something melancholy about it, too. 

Joe nods. “They really are okay with, you know, me being gay, or at least they’re trying to be okay with it—my parents, I mean. My sisters are great, maybe we could meet up with just them sometime.”

“I would like that.”

Nicky still looks so sad. It’s like a knife in Joe’s back. 

“Nicky? Are you—is it something—”

Nicky shakes his head and sighs. He leans into Joe’s chest, and Joe wraps his arms around him. 

“I—I don’t have any plans with my family,” Nicky tells him. “Because I haven’t spoken to any of them in nearly twelve years.”

Joe has never been called a man of few words, but he has no idea how to respond to that. He swallows. “That’s—that’s a long time.”

“When I was eighteen, I left home and came to the States. I stayed with Andy in her dorm and enrolled in university here a few months later. We—my parents and I—we fought and I could not stay there any longer.”

“Was it…”

“Because I told them I was gay? Yes.”

“Oh, Nicky.”

“My brother Francesco was fourteen when I left,” Nicky says quietly. “I probably would not recognize him now.” 

“I—Nicky, I wish I knew what to say. I’m sorry.” Joe kisses the top of Nicky’s head, runs a hand up and down his back, takes his hand and holds it tight. It all feels inadequate.

Nicky lifts his head to look up at him. “Don’t be. If I had not left, I would not have met you.”

“I love you,” Joe says, and Nicky’s eyes gleam.

“I love you, too, Joe,” Nicky tells him, and Joe feels like he’s holding the entire world in his arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations, you have now unlocked Nicky's tragic backstory!


	4. not giving you up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The porn-to-plot ratio of the last chapter was NOT to my liking so here's a bit that's 75% porn, 25% plot :))

It’s the third day they’ve spent holed up in Nicky’s apartment. The moment Joe returned from Columbus, Nicky fed him ricotta and spinach ravioli, asked him about the visit, then dragged him to the bedroom. They’ve ventured out to the kitchen for leftovers, and yesterday they watched a movie on the couch, but otherwise they haven’t left the bed.

Joe is still sleeping when Nicky crawls out from the warm nest of covers. Left to his own devices, Joe could sleep until noon, but he’d specifically requested that Nicky wake him up before nine so he “could start getting back on school schedule.”

He makes coffee and, after doctoring Joe’s with sugar and milk, carries both mugs into the bedroom.

“Joe, love,” Nicky says, scratching at his scalp. “It’s eight fifty-nine.” 

Joe makes a bleary noise and cracks an eye open. 

“There’s coffee.” Nicky waves the mug under Joe’s noise, which gets him a smile.

Joe stretches and sits up. He takes a drink and hums with satisfaction. 

“So good to me,” he says, then his smile takes on an edge. “So good for me, too.” He runs a hand over Nicky’s thigh. 

Nicky sets his mug on the floor and straddles Joe’s lap. He rolls his hips against Joe’s and revels in the little noise Joe makes.

“Let me show you how good I can be,” Nicky mutters against his ear.

Joe puts his mug down to wrap his arms around Nicky. One of his fingers trails up and down the cleft of Nicky’s ass. 

“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Nicky moans and nods. 

Joe smacks his ass. “So slutty.”

That’s new, and Nicky feels his cock dribble in his sweats. “Fuck, Joe.” 

Joe kisses him, wet and open-mouthed. He tips Nicky on to his back and rips down his sweats. “Take off your shirt,” he orders as he starts stripping his own clothes.

Nicky throws it over the side of the bed and props himself up on his elbows, waiting. 

Joe takes Nicky’s hands and pushes them over his head. “You’re gonna be good for me, right baby?”

“Yes, Joe, anything.”

“Then I want you to keep these here, okay? And I’m not going to help you out by tying you down. You move them, and I’m gonna come on your face and leave you hard all day.”

Nicky groans into his arm and clasps his own wrist. 

Joe grins. He lowers down to swallow Nicky to the root, and Nicky throws his head back into the pillow. 

“Joe, fuck, that feels so good—”

He’s close to coming when Joe pulls off and licks his way up Nicky’s chest. Nicky’s clutching his wrist so hard he may bruise it. 

Joe sucks on a nipple. “You’re doing so well, Nicky, baby.”

“Joe,” he pleads.

“So sweet and so slutty. Just for me.” Joe bites the other nipple and Nicky cries out.

“Yes, fuck, just for you, Joe, I’m yours—”

Joe surges up and kisses him, one hand cupping Nicky’s neck. Their hips drag together, and Nicky’s out of his mind with wanting.

“Joe,” he pants against Joe’s lips, “take me, hit me, choke me, I’m yours—”

Joe stares down at him, eyes wide, breathing heavy. His eyes are like dark pools, shining with something Nicky can’t name. The silence between them drags on and Nicky worries he’s gone too far, but then Joe’s hand adjusts its position on his neck. Nicky gasps and flutters his eyes shut as he feels the hand squeeze around his throat. 

Nicky starts to squirm as his vision spins, then Joe releases him and it feels so good, so perfect, and he gasps for the breath to put that in words—

“Red,” Joe says, loudly. 

Nicky blinks up at him, chest heaving, trying to reorient himself.

Joe looks down at him nervously. “Or—ah, yellow? I don’t—”

“It’s okay, I—can I touch you?”

“Yes, Nicky, of course—”

Nicky drops one hand to tangle one hand in Joe’s curls and rests the other on his back, rubbing slow circles into it. 

“It’s okay,” he tells him. He’s still hard, pressing into Joe’s thigh, and his head still feels a little foggy, but he forces himself to focus. “Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?”

“No, I just—I don’t know, I’m sorry, I…” Joe sighs and drops his head to Nicky’s chest.

“Joe, can we sit up?” 

They push themselves to sitting and Nicky takes Joe’s hands in his. “You never need to apologize for using the safeword, Joe.”

“I know, but—okay. Okay,” he says. He still looks worried.

“I’m glad you did. I told you, I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know, Nicky, I just…you asked me for it, and you liked it, didn’t you?”

There’s no point in lying, especially not when he’s trying to encourage Joe’s honesty. “I did, yes.”

“I could tell.” Joe laces their fingers together. “But I was afraid—I kept thinking, what if I hurt you?” 

Nicky wants to tell Joe that he hadn’t, that he could never, but he knows it’s less about what could really happen and more about how Joe feels about it. “I understand,” he says. 

He kisses Joe, soft and quick. “Joe, I like everything you do with me, to me. If this…particular thing doesn’t feel good to you, I don’t want to do it. Yes?”

Joe smiles. “Yes.”

“You mean it? You know you have nothing to be sorry for or feel guilty about.”

“Yes,” Joe confirms. “Though I will start feeling guilty if you don’t let me finish what I started.” He looks pointedly down at Nicky’s cock, which is still more hard than not.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I know. I want to. Just let me suck you?”

Nicky searches Joe’s face for any signs of obligation, then allows himself a smile as he settles back into the bed. “Who am I to deny you?”

Joe grins. As he begins to mouth at Nicky’s cock, he takes Nicky’s hand and guides it to his hair. 

———

Being featured in one of Hyde Park Art Center’s exhibits is undeniably cool, but Joe makes a point to never get too excited about any art opportunity—the business can be fickle and it’s a recipe for heartbreak.

That doesn’t stop Nicky from acting like he’s achieved the EGOT. They go to see the exhibit the day it opens, and while Nicky looks at each piece with a polite interest, he stares at Joe’s work for long minutes, eyes wide. 

“This is amazing,” he says, and he squeezes Joe’s hand. 

Joe squeezes back. “Thanks, Nicky.” 

“Have you ever thought to do this full-time?”

Joe shrugs. “I’ve thought about it. But it can be rough. And I like having a place to live, food to eat, you know, that sort of thing.”

“But you’re so talented,” Nicky says, all sincere confusion. 

“Yeah, well, you may be a little biased,” he says with a grin, and Nicky frowns. “Besides,” he continues before Nicky can protest, “it’s not just about talent. There’s en element of luck.”

Nicky looks like he’s considering this. “And you’ve never wanted to try yours?”

Joe shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I don’t know. Maybe someday, when I have more money saved. It’s hard to take that leap.”

Nicky nods. “I think if anyone deserves their work in a gallery, it’s you, Joe. These are beautiful.” 

“Yeah. Well. Maybe someday,” he says again, feeling unusually shy under Nicky’s pensive gaze. “Anyway, I like teaching, too—encouraging creativity, developing talent, all of that.”

Nicky smiles. “You are the most generous person I’ve ever known.” He brushes a kiss over Joe’s temple. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Take me home?” 

They take the train back to Nicky’s, pressed close the whole time. They don’t talk much, and when they get inside the apartment, Joe kisses Nicky, lazy and wet.

“Fuck me, tonight?” he asks Nicky when they pull apart. 

Nicky’s eyes widen a little and he nods, cheeks pink.

They undress at the same languid pace on their way to the bedroom, dropping clothes along the way like breadcrumbs.

Joe reclines on the bed and Nicky settles between his thighs. He lifts one of Joe’s legs to hook over his shoulder and Joe hums low in his throat. 

Nicky flashes him a smile and kisses the inside of his calf, then slicks up his fingers. 

“It’s been awhile since we’ve done this,” Nicky says, voice low. He circles his index finger around Joe’s rim until he’s relaxed enough for Nicky to press in.

“It has,” Joe agrees. “You’ve been distracting me with—ahh,” he moans as Nicky brushes against his prostate, “…with other pleasurable pastimes.” 

Nicky licks at his cock. “Still,” he says. “I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.” 

Joe frowns and opens his mouth to insist that’s not the case, but when Nicky looks up his expression is playful. 

Joe smirks. “Well, here’s your chance to make it up to me.”

“I will,” Nicky says, now serious. He works in a second finger, deliberate without teasing, all intense focus and keen eyes watching for signs that Joe needs more or less. As worked up as he gets when Joe manhandles him or bosses him around, he’s entirely self-possessed as he opens Joe up.

By the time Nicky can scissor three fingers inside him, Joe’s panting and leaking on his own stomach.

“Baby, I’m ready,” he says.

Nicky kisses his thigh as he pulls out his fingers. Joe can’t help whining a little at the loss, and Nicky consoles him by licking into Joe’s mouth as he strokes lube over his cock. 

The push in is a pleasant stretch, and Joe sighs. 

“You feel amazing,” Nicky tells him, dropping his forehead to Joe’s. 

“I was going to say the same thing, baby. Fuck.” Joe moans again when Nicky gets a hand around his cock. 

It’s nothing he hasn’t had before, but he’s never had it so good. Nicky thrusts are slow but deep, hitting Joe’s prostate unfailingly. 

“So good, Nicky,” he groans.

Nicky kisses his neck, his jaw, his cheek. “Joe.” His jaw is clenched, and Joe knows he’s determined to last until Joe finishes, however long it takes.

Lucky for Nicky, then, that it’s not going to take long at all. It’s too perfect, hot and unhurried, which, while not inherently better than filthy and frantic, is still a nice change of pace. 

Nicky’s kiss swallows up whatever noises Joe makes when he comes. His cock is still twitching when Nicky’s hips start to rabbit into him as he chases his own orgasm. 

After, they lay wrapped in each other’s arms for as long as they can stand before they’re forced to admit that things are drying and cooling uncomfortably.

As they hop into the shower together, Joe wonders eyes Nicky’s thighs and wonders if a second round is in the cards. 

———

Nicky has never gotten the impression that Dr. Meta Kozak particularly cared for him, which makes it all the more baffling when he finds himself sitting across from her at a table in a wine bar, at her request.

“I’m sure you have plans this evening, so I will be brief,” she tells him. “I have received an offer to continue my research at King’s College in London next year.”

Nicky blinks. “Congratulations, doctor.”

“Thank you,” Kozak says, unsmiling. “I have also been very pleased with your work these past two years. If you would be amenable, I would like you to join me there and continue in your capacity as research assistant.” She sips her wine and waits for his response. 

Nicky is floored. “I—thank you, firstly, I…so appreciate you giving me this opportunity. I will need to ah, discuss this with my—my partner. Could I let you know next week?”

“Yes, naturally. Take a few weeks, if you need. In the meantime, shall I tell you more about the opportunity?”

He nods and drinks his wine while Kozak relays details that immediately slip from his head. Finally, when both their glasses are drained, Kozak signs for the bill and they go their separate ways.

Nicky makes his way to Joe’s on autopilot. He lets himself in and is hit with the smell of carryout from their favorite Thai place. 

Joe pokes his head out from the kitchen. “I picked us up food from Me Dee. I know it’s not a home-cooked meal, but…”

Nicky forces himself to smile. “It sounds great, thank you.” He leaves his coat and shoes at the door and joins Joe, who does a double take when he sees Nicky’s face.

“Nicky? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I just—I had something interesting happen, today.”

“Oh?”

He nods. “Dr. Kozak asked me out for a drink—”

Joe quirks an eyebrow. “Isn’t she a bit old for you?”

“—and she told me that she’s been offered a position in London. And she’d like me to keep working for her, there.” 

Joe stares at him, wide-eyed. “Oh.”

“I told her I needed to think about it—”

“Right, of course.” Joe’s face, normally so open and easy to read, is closed off. 

“I don’t—she had more details, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was…taken aback. I wasn’t expecting anything like that.”

“Well, you’re good at your job, Nicky,” Joe says. Then he smiles. “It sounds like a really great opportunity.” 

“I—yes, I suppose.” Nicky doesn’t know how exactly he expected this conversation to unfold, but he feels completely wrong-footed.

“Really, Nicky, you deserve this.” Joe’s face is painfully earnest. “You should take it, if that’s what you want.”

“If that’s what I want?” Nicky repeats.

Joe nods.

Nicky stares, waiting to see if he says anything else. It is a good opportunity, but for Nicky that’s the least important factor in this decision—though apparently Joe doesn’t agree.

Nicky’s stomach turns. “I think I should go.”

Joe’s face crumples. “What, now?”

Nicky nods and turns from the kitchen. If he wants to keep from crying, he needs to stop looking at Joe. 

Joe is hot on his heels, but Nicky refuses to face him. He doesn’t bother tying his shoes or buttoning his coat. 

“Nicky, what—”

“We can talk more tomorrow?” he manages, somehow both a placation and a plea. He catches a glimpse of Joe’s face, his wide eyes and furrowed brow, and quickly looks away. “I need—I need some space, to think.” 

“Okay,” Joe says softly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Nicky nods and almost runs out the door. He makes it home before he starts crying. 


	5. only me and you

Joe thought the way he felt after Nicky ran out of his apartment on Friday was the worst he could ever feel, but by Monday he’s somehow in even poorer spirits. It was like all the terrible emotions had been left to stew all weekend. 

He’d reached out to Nicky via text on Saturday—he waited until ten, even though he was awake at six without setting an alarm—and all Nicky had said was, _I think I may need more time._

Then, a minute later, _Sorry._

Joe had typed out I love you but stopped himself from sending it out of respect for Nicky’s space. Whatever was going into this decision for Nicky, he didn’t want to make it any harder than it apparently already was.

“Joe,” Nile says when they cross paths in the teacher’s lounge, “what happened?”

He glances at her wearily over his mug. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean you look like someone died,” she says. “ _Did_ someone die?”

He considers keeping it to himself, but he’s never been good at holding back. “No, it’s just—something happened, with Nicky.”

She gives his arm a squeeze. “Tell me everything at lunch?”

Even though it’s still incredibly cold out, they take their food outside to talk where curious middle-school-aged ears won’t be able to hear them. The last thing Joe needs is for the eighth-graders to start spreading stories about the terrible falling out he’s had with his boyfriend.

“—and I don’t know, I said it sounded like a great opportunity for him and that he should take it if he wants, because how could I not support him? I mean, Nile, he puts up with my awful schedule here and he acts like my art deserves a MacArthur grant.”

“Right,” Nile says, nodding for him to continue.

“Anyway, I said that and then he just—he said he needed to leave, that he needed space to think, and he still said that on Saturday and I haven’t heard from him since and I don’t know what to do.” He looks down at his tray, stares the disgusting little rectangular slice of pizza and thinks he might start crying on it. 

Nile pats his knee. “Joe…did you say anything else to him? Like about what you wanted?”

“No, of course not.” He looks over to Nile. Her face is shifting its expression too quickly for Joe to get a read on it. “It’s not about what I want, it’s about what Nicky wants. And of course I love him, and if he wants to take the job and go to London, I’ll go with him, if he’ll have me—”

“But does he know that?”

“Yeah,” Joe says, because he tells Nicky he loves him every day, even when they don’t actually see each other—Nicky has to know it. 

“So you said exactly that to him?”

“No, but Nile, maybe part of going to London for him is a chance to…I don’t know. Do his own thing, again.”

Nile sighs and looks like she’s about to say something else, but then the bell rings. 

———

On Tuesday, Nicky calls in sick. He accomplished nothing the day before—all he could think about was Joe, and what to say to him, or what to not say to him, and what he was going to actually do about London, and really, the whole thing did make him feel sick to his stomach.

At two, he notices he has three missed calls from Andy, which strikes him as odd. They spoke on Sunday, when Nicky told her everything that happened Friday, and that conversation would more or less fill their phone call quota for the year. 

“Hello?”

“Nicky. Let’s get a coffee later. Five?”

He has no idea of what to make of this strange request, and he lacks the energy to decipher it. “I don’t feel like going out right now, Andy.”

“Getting a coffee isn’t ‘going out.’ It’s getting coffee. Consider this a wellness check.”

“If you insist on that, why don’t you just come over?”

“Two birds, one stone. Let’s meet at the place on Lincoln.”

Nicky sighs, knowing resistance is futile. “Fine. I’ll see you there.”

He passes the next few hours in a daze on the couch before he takes a three-minute shower, throws on a two-minute outfit, and heads out.

Andy is waiting to meet him outside the cafe, which is almost enough to shock him out of his depression. 

He glances at his phone. “You’re _early_. Were you really that concerned?”

“You could say that,” she says, gesturing him through the door.

Nicky notices Joe the second they walk into the cafe. He’s been drawn to him like a magnet from the moment they met. Months later, nothing has changed.

Joe looks up, eyes wide and surprised. “Nicky?”

He’s sitting at a table with Nile, who does not look surprised, and in fact looks a little pleased. Nicky looks around and sees that Andy is also wearing a smug expression. 

Joe narrows his eyes. “What’s going on, Nile?”

She grins. “We Parent Trapped you.”

The reference is lost on Nicky, but Joe scowls. “Nile, this isn’t okay—Nicky,” he says, twisting back in his chair, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that…whatever this is, was gonna happen—”

“Okay, you both can stop acting like you’ve been stabbed in the back anytime now,” Andy says, rolling her eyes. “Nicky, you stay. Nile and I are leaving.”

“ _What_?” Nicky hisses.

Andy leans in so only he can hear. “Talk to Joe. He loves you. You’re just dumbasses.” She gives him a quick hug, and then leaves with Nile. 

Nicky is left standing just inside the door, staring at Joe.

“Um. You don’t have to stay, if you—if you still want some space,” Joe says. 

Nicky swallows and takes a step forward. “No, I—maybe we should talk.”

Joe nods. “Yes, okay. Let’s talk.”

He sits across from Joe and searches for the right words, but Joe beats him to it.

“I missed you, Nicky,” he says, and his voice sounds so raw that it makes Nicky’s heart clench. 

“I missed you, too.” And he has—so much. Four days without Joe has felt like nine-hundred years.

“Nicky…” Joe leans forward. “I don’t want you to make any decisions about your career based on me, that’s not fair to you. But if—if you didn’t know, I support you, no matter what, and I want to be with you, if that’s what you want.” 

Nicky feels a tendril of hope licking up his chest. “If I wanted to go to London?”

“I’d go with you,” Joe says immediately, and Nicky isn’t sure what his face is doing, but whatever it is drives Joe to hastily add, “Or we could be long-distance if you’re not ready for that, or if you—if you wanted to call things off, I would respect that, but—”

“I would want you to go with me,” Nicky says, because it’s not even a question.

“Really?”

“Yes, of course, Joe, I—I like my job, but it’s not half as important to me as you are.” 

“Oh,” Joe says, sounding a little breathless. His eyes are shining. 

Nicky takes his hand. “I know it’s my decision. But I want to make it with you.” 

Joe blinks, sniffs, and rubs at his eye with his free hand. “Can we go home?”  
“Of course,” Nicky says, then he realizes he’s not entirely sure whose place Joe is referring to. “That is—mine or yours?”

Joe smiles and it’s like the sun comes out. “Either. It’s all the same if I’m with you.”

———

In the end, they decide against London. Joe frets, but Nicky assures him it’s just a job, and even though Joe is willing to move across the ocean with him, their friends mostly likely are not. 

Instead, Joe lets his lease run up and moves in with Nicky. He spends all of five minutes pretending that the shorter commute is a comparable benefit to seeing Nicky every day.

“It’s a good thing you shitheads stayed here,” Nile says when Joe tells her. “What would you do without Andy and I?”  
“Yeah, yeah, we’d be doomed, hopeless boys, idiots in love, yada yada. Speaking of, what exactly is going on with you and Andy?” 

Nile raises her eyebrows and starts to walk away. “A lady never tells.” 

“Is Booker involved?” he yells after her. 

That mystery goes unsolved, but the next several rounds they share at the bar are on Joe and Nicky all the same. 

Kozak, Nicky reports, is seemingly emotionless about his decision not to accept her offer, and by the end of the semester, he’s secured a new research position with another faculty member. 

Every day with Nicky is happy blur. It’s the first truly warm day of the year, and he’s browsing the poetry section of the used bookshop on Broadway when he sees him—wide shoulders and perfect ass and striking nose, bent down to examine the bottom row of shelves.

Joe walks up behind him and runs his fingers through the soft brown hair, and Nicky turns his face to him.

“Hello, handsy-yet-handsome stranger,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “Could you make some recommendations? I’m looking for some contemporary queer poetry to woo my boyfriend with. It’s our six-month anniversary, you see.” 

Joe grins. “I can do that. And then could you recommend some educational reading? See, I’m also celebrating a six-month anniversary, and my boyfriend is a kinky little shit, so I’m looking for the best way to blow his mind.”

Nicky straightens and slips an arm around his waist. “I don’t think there’s anything a book can tell you about that which you don’t already know.” Then his eyes flash. “Though perhaps you could Google it?”

Joe bites his lip and tries not to laugh. He leans in and lowers his voice. “I am gonna spank your smart ass ’til it turns red tonight.” 

Nicky kisses him, and they only make it to the alley. Joe can appreciate that kind of symmetry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for going on this ride with me—hope the ending satisfied!


End file.
